Over the weekend I got my hair cut--a much-needed, long overdue haircut. My intention was to color my hair before I got to the salon. A couple of years ago I started coloring my hair to save money and like it to appear that I'm on top of it on those rare occasions when I actually get a cut. I also find it's a lot easier to complain about a color that I don't like when I pay $6 or $8 for it than $60 or $80 at the salon!
Of course, I procrastinated life got in the way and I didn't get my color done before I went for a cut. I've been going to this guy for years long before I needed color so he knows my hair. Sometimes there's a communication problem like this time...he cut, I said the length is fine--thanks, he said it needed some layering and a few minutes and three inches shorter later, I walked out. Whatever, it's hair it will grow, right? And really who cares that I know look like a mom on a 1960s sitcom, you know, other than me?
So I get home and this is the conversation with Bug:
Me: What do you think of my hair? Bug: Gray
I'm thinking if he continues with this honesty he won't have many second dates in the years to come.
Mag lives with her husband, Donnie, and son, Bug, who was born in 2006 and their bulldog, The Little Girl, who still tries to run the house when Bug isn’t keeping up his end of the job. Email Mag at firstname.lastname@example.org